Who Can Fix It?
Part - 2: Together

Cool blue, rosy pink and sandy yellow tones blended across the vast expanse of eastern sky bringing along with it the shimmering rays of dawn. Naina Maheshwari stood on the terrace offering her prayers to the sun, dressed in a red and green bandhej saree with her mangalsutra and delicate golden necklace she was ready to begin her fast for Gangaur. It was probably ironic, that on the day of the festival celebrating love and marriage she was standing all alone without her husband, or perhaps it was symbolic that on this day she was going to put every bit of effort to rebuild the relationship that seemed to be slipping away from her hands like fine sand. She stood there letting the first nascent rays of the morning touch her body, seep into her soul, and let her heart make the choice. Symbolic is what she chose to believe in, just like the rising sun which symbolized new beginning, which represented possibilities and hope.

After finishing the morning puja with Bela, she decided to give him a call first, or rather call up at home. Just hearing his voice would give her some idea about his mood, and then she could decide her approach strategy accordingly. Or who knows… maybe there would be no need of strategy… She sat on the sofa daydreaming of a scenario where as soon as she rings the bell, Sameer opens the door and is so happy to see her that he pulls her into a tight hug.

She was soon pulled out of her dream as the phone rang, and her eyes lit up with hope as she rushed to pick it up. But it turned out to be Mamaji, and she stood in shock on hearing his declaration about separation, and the fact that he had told this to Sameer four days ago… Four days… The unfortunate day they had quarreled. Her hands shook as she kept the phone back. So this was what had been troubling Sameer. This was the reason for his outburst. Obviously things weren’t as simple as Mamaji depicted, he would have told Sameer more, insulted him too, and made him feel inferior. It hurt her to imagine that their so-called relatives were the reason behind the pain of her husband, but even more than that it angered her that someone could stoop so low to hurt their own kin. Breathing hard, she tried to calm her emotions, compartmentalize the anger she was feeling and only one thought stood out amidst everything. She needed to be with Sameer… now.

She was already dressed, hence she just took a few minutes to explain to Chachiji about the situation, and then left saying that she would pick up her luggage later. Walking on the road, she desperately tried to look for an autorickshaw but none seemed to be in the mood of making a business. Just then she spotted one approaching from the other side of the road, and thought to cross over to stop it. However, in her haste she didn’t check if the road was empty and turned in surprise as a loud horn beeped. She stared with wide horrified eyes at the approaching Maruti Omni, but it was too late for her to react… There was loud thud, a sharp pain shot through her, dimly she registered the grey concrete road, and with a last whisper of Sameer’s name her eyes closed.

She didn’t know when the car stopped and the passengers streamed out in fright and shock, she didn’t know when a lady checked if she was breathing or not, she had no memory of another girl quickly looking through her purse to find a address or a phone number… Her next memory was of agonizing pain and a man’s deep voice as he asked her if she could remember her name. Somehow she managed to open her eyes, and found Chachiji crying next to her which made her realize that she was not on road anymore. She looked to the other side to search for Sameer, but he wasn’t there… She tried to think if she had met him or not, but the man’s voice kept interrupting, asking stupid questions like today’s date and her name.

Irritated to the core, she croaked, “mera naam Naina Sameer Maheshwari hai… aur aaj shanivaar hai, Gangaur…” But soon her minimal energy faded, and her eyes fluttered again, she kept whispering Sameer’s name and the last bit she heard was Chachiji’s voice assuring that he would be here soon. That was all she needed to hear, and she let herself slip into darkness again, feeling a small prick on her arm, as the doctor gave her an injection which she didn’t know.

Few kilometers away, Sameer sat down on the sofa to wear his socks, his mind focused on his plan to bring his Naina back. He would apologize to her, tell her that there was something that had made him behave like that, and he was sure she would ask what was the reason, so then he could tempt her that he needed to share it with her at their own home… Naina would be worried and curious both, and even if she didn’t forgive him totally, she would still come home with him swearing about all the punishments he would have to suffer at her hand. He almost grinned at the thought of his sweet wife dishing out her unique punishments to him… last time when she had been angry his punishment was to not hug her back when she hugged him for the next three days… He had laughed out thinking it would be easy, plus he was getting hugs so what was the issue… But soon, he had realized that whenever her soft body nestled against him it was almost impossible for him to not wrap his own arms around him… and he couldn’t hug her, because if he did she threatened she would stop hugging him. That, he knew for sure he wouldn’t be able to bear. So, whenever she had hugged him he had clenched his fists and stood like a statue trying to just take in the feel of her against him, or did whatever was within permissible limits like resting his chin on top of her head so that he could feel the softness of her hair. Sometimes he wondered where she got these punishment ideas from… maybe it came from one of those thousands of books she kept reading all the time. But when the three day limit had passed he had pulled her to him, crushing her so tight in his arms that she had squealed.

His thoughts were interrupted by his mother who declared him mad. He looked up confused, and she mentioned how he had always been right about Naina. No one could love him more than Naina. His mother accepted that she had left him always, but Naina was the only one who stood by him. She declared that he was incomplete without Naina. Sameer held his breath on hearing this… Yes, he had been the one who had said all this to his mother… Yet, he had forgotten these very simple facts and let their relationship fall apart, let Naina drift away. He cursed himself, and promised his mother that he would bring Naina back today itself, and eagerly stood up to leave.

Just then the phone rang, and he picked it up not knowing that his whole world would come crashing down. Chachiji constantly cried over the phone as she informed him that Naina had met with an accident. The phone dropped from his hands along with the bottom from his stomach… Naina… His wife… she was hurt… Accident… How? He needed to get to her… immediately.

In half a daze he ran out of his home, and slid into the car… While driving he could only think again of how tiny and delicate Naina was, first he had hit her, and now the accident. How would she bear all this? Her skin was so soft… just the thought of a scratch on it made him want to destroy the world around him. It was all because of him… everything… if he had not behaved so badly then Naina wouldn’t have gone away, she wouldn’t have been sad, and she wouldn’t have been hurt like this. Every punishment was small for his horrendous deed.

Somehow he managed to reach the new house screeching to a halt on the asphalt road, and was out of the car even before it had stopped shaking. He ran inside only to see Chachiji coming out with a man, whom he dimly realized to be a doctor…

“Naina..”, he croaked.

Chachiji replied quickly, “andar hai beta.”

He rushed to the room, and froze at the doorstep to see his Naina lying on the bed partially covered with a thin sheet. His throat was dry as he surveyed the rubbery splint on her hand, and the pristine white bandage on her forehead. Suddenly the distance was too much to bear, and he took quick strides to reach her side. Sitting down on the edge of the bed, he gingerly stroked her hair willing her to wake up and see him… But she didn’t… He held her hand, slightly relieved on feeling the warmth of her skin, but feeling incomplete when her hand just lay limply in his instead of clasping back like she always did. Tears streaked down his face, and he spoke, “Naina… please utho na. Dekho main aaya hun… tumhe lene… please uth jao na. I am sorry Naina… mujhe maaf kardo…”

She didn’t respond in anyway, breaking his heart, increasing his worry. Naina always answered him back… she had to give him an answer… His wife couldn’t stay quiet. Worried he looked at her features, the dark circles around her eyes, the dullness of her skin, the light scratch on one cheek… she looked so frail, as if she had lost weight… Hadn’t she been eating properly? He choked as he continued, “Naina please… main promise karta hun ab kabhi tumse jhagda nahi karunga, tumhari har baat manunga, tumse bahot pyaar karunga. Tum na jaise chaho waise rehna, ghar bhi jaisa chaho waise rakhna… Tum sofa pe plastic lagaogi toh bhi main kuch nahi bolunga. Bas please uth jao.”

Incredibly enough her eyes fluttered open; and he had a fleeting thought that she seriously liked plastic-clad sofa… She smiled softly, “Sameer…”, and her hand clutched his making his heartbeats soar.

“Naina… yeh… tum… main…”, he stammered unsure what to say now that she was awake.

She gently squeezed his hand, “shsh… kab aaye tum?”

He sniffed, “kabse bethke baate kar raha hun… par tum uth hi nahi rahi thi.”

She took a deep breath, “mujhe laga jaise tum bula rahe ho… par kuch sunai nahi diya… bas… sofa wala suna.”

He gulped as the image of plastic wrapped around their sofa set popped in his mental vision, but it was soon dissipated as he noticed Naina trying to get up. He quickly helped her, supporting her waist, and was surprised when she immediately enveloped him in a hug. He sat still for a moment as his mind tried to catch up to the fact that his wife was hugging him and not fighting with him, and he hesitantly wrapped his arms around her, mindful of her injuries.

She drew back, and looked at her own hand, her voice curious as she mused, “fracture hai lagta hai. Splint hai nay eh?”

Sameer swallowed hard and nodded. She wondered aloud, “hmm… mujhe isse pehle kabhi fracture nahi hua. Hamesha sochti thi kaisa lagta hai…”

He stared incredulously, “kya?? Tum pagal ho kya… ek toh itni chot aai hai… aur upar se…”

She interrupted him, “bada wala fracture thodi na hai… dekho rubber wala splint hai… matlab hairline hoga. Maine ek book me padha tha…”

“Chup”, he admonished, “tum na yeh ajeeb kitaabe padhna bandh karo. Aur tum bahar nikli kyun thi akele?”

She leaned on his chest again, trying to calm him, and he immediately hugged her again though as lightly as he could. She slowly confessed, “main tumhare paas aa rahi thi. Mujhe pata chal gaya ke tum uss din itne gusse me kyun the.”

He pulled back in shock, and stammered, “ka..kaise?”

She bit her lip, “mamaji ka phone aaya tha.”

He looked away from her eyes, “Naina… main… mujhe samajh nahi aaya.”

She held his hand again to stop him from talking, “yahan nahi… ghar pe. Mujhe ghar le chalo Sameer.” She hugged him again as she asked, “tum… tum mujhe lene aaye ho na?” But then quickly pulled back before he could answer, and when he looked perplexed she gestured him to look behind. He saw Chachiji at the door, she looked hesitant, but then moved away giving them the privacy they needed. Naina looked at him so desperately, as if she wondered if he would take her or leave her, that he slowly enveloped her in his arms, “haan… aur sirf tumhare accident ke wajah se nahi Naina, main toh tumhe lene ke nikal hi raha tha ke mujhe Chachiji ne call kiya aur kaha ke tum…”

She smiled, and queried, “sach?”

He tilted his head to rest his cheek on her hair, “haan sach. Kal raat se mummy aai hai. Unhone mujhe samjhaya, aur mujhe yeh bhi bataya ke tum har hafte unse aur Mr. Somani se baate karti ho.”

She drew back from his arms, “kya? Unhone bata diya… ab mere surprise ka kya hoga?”

He smiled, and cupped her face, “I love you Naina.”

“I love you too”, she immediately replied, “ghar chale?”

He nodded, “main Chachiji se baat kar leta hun. Tum aaram karo.”

Sameer sought permission to take Naina back, and also mentioned about Vishakha being here for few days. Bela asked Sameer to stay for lunch, so that Naina could finish her Gangaur fast and pray. He agreed to it, and in the meantime helped to pack her belongings. He also got to know from Chachiji, that Naina had a fracture on her right wrist, a sprained left foot, and head injury which thankfully hadn’t required stitches. But the doctor had mentioned that she would need ample rest as it was likely for her to have headache, and of course not to mention body pain as she had taken a hit from car. He was told by Bela about how Naina had left in a hurry to meet him, and the car had hit her while she was crossing the road, the occupants of the car had looked through her bag for some address and had found both Chachaji’s address and their home’s address too in a small notepad, and since this place was closer they had brought her here. Sameer shuddered visibly on hearing the details and dreaded to think of the scenario if the people in that car had not made the effort to save her, if she didn’t have the address written in her emergency notepad, if… and if… and if… Every scenario that played through his mind made him realize the horrible consequences of his anger. Today he could have lost Naina forever, even without a chance to apologize or to make her believe that he loved her… just the thought… the barely there thought of losing Naina made him break out in cold sweat.

He didn’t know if there was anything that could be an appropriate repentance of his act, but he stuck to her side helping her with everything, be it sitting up or lying down, drinking water or taking medicine. When the time for puja came, Chachiji came in to help her dress up, and he reluctantly left from the room.

Naina frowned at the saree Bela pulled out, “Chachiji, aap mujhe saree pehnaoge abhi toh ghar jaake main kaise kapde badlungi?”

Bela chuckled a little on hearing the lilting tone of her daughter, even though she was complaining there was an innate happiness in her voice, and only Sameer could have brought it back, “beta tu damaadji ko kehna, woh madad kar denge.”

Naina blushed at the thought of asking Sameer to help her with changing clothes, it wasn’t something she could ever think of, yet Chachiji made it sound so simple as if it was obvious. Was it? She thought about it as Chachiji made her wear the yellow and pink saree. What was the relationship between a man and woman? She knew some of it, and wondered about some of it, but never had the courage to follow-up on her curiosity. Sameer’s advances and his touches during their honeymoon had made her feel so many things, but at the same time she had been uneasy and he had sensed it. After they were back from honeymoon, he had again tried to be near her after their exams, he had dipped his hand inside her night suit top and touched her bare waist while kissing her… it had been such a shock for her that she had wrenched herself free from his arms. He had stared at her through a hooded gaze she couldn’t read, but then had slowly pulled her back in his arms and promised that he will wait. Even then she had wanted to ask… wait for what? What was expected of her? She knew it was normal for him to touch her like that, that much she had gauged from movies, but what next… what came after that was such a blank wall for her that she feared what she would find if she explored. Yet sometimes when she would focus on her husband, her own body’s reactions mesmerized her… the ache she felt inside, the heaviness in her breasts, her labored breathing, the tingling in her spine… everything was caused by Sameer, and she wanted to ask him the cure of it… but didn’t know how to. Sometimes she would be irritated at his patience; she wished he would start those advances again so there could come a time when she would give in to him. But well… the otherwise impatient, impulsive Sameer Maheshwari had endless pool of patience when it came to her.

Chachiji finished her task, and put the final touch, a bindi on her forehead, “kahan khoyi hui hai beta? Chal bahar chal, puja karle.”

Naina looked at her own reflection in the mirror, and saw a woman with mangalsutra but no sindoor… That simple view; that moment, made her realize that she needed to not just be a woman in Sameer Maheshwari’s life, but she needed to be Sameer Maheshwari’s woman… his wife. A small smile bloomed on her face at this simple acceptance, and she asked, “Chachiji, Sameer ko bula dijiye na, main uske saath aati hun.”

Bela smiled and went outside. After a minute Sameer came in, slightly worried, “Naina kya hua? Tum theek ho na… mujhe bulaya.”

She smiled at him, and he couldn’t help but stare at her smile… there was some difference in it… it was still just as beautiful and charming, but also serene and satisfied. “Sindoor laga do na”, she demanded.

His eyes widened in surprise, and then a deep glitter sparked in them as he sauntered up to her; she picked up the small box in one hand, and he pinched a bit filling the partition in her hair. Unable to resist he asked, “aaj puja hai isiliye?”

She kept the box back, held on to his hand and stood up, gazing into his eyes, she replied, “nahi… shaadi-shuda hun isiliye. Bahar chale?”

He didn’t understand the meaning behind her words properly, but didn’t know what to ask… yes she was married, had been married since many months now… yet he had only seen her apply sindoor when relatives or family visited. He had never objected to anything she did, because what mattered to him was that she was his, whether she applied sindoor or not, whether she wore the mangalsutra or not, she was his wife and no one could change that. Today was the first time she had demanded that he apply sindoor on her head, he didn’t miss that she did have one good hand which she could have used, yet she called him. Did it mean something? He didn’t know… yet.

After finishing the puja, they drove home, and he helped her out of the car. She flinched every time she used her bad leg, and was limping so badly that he couldn’t bear it. He stopped her, dipped and picked her up in his arms. Her cheeks flushed at his action, and for a moment he thought that she would ask him to place her down as his mother was at home, but she didn’t… instead she laid her head on his shoulder perfectly comfortable. His mother welcomed them inside, and Pandit showered flowers from upstairs, making her laugh. Sameer placed her down, and as she stumbled he quickly held her waist, his fingers on her bare skin… For a brief minute he was reminded of the way she had pulled back from him that other night, but today she didn’t even flinch or object, rather she leaned on him even more letting him support her weight. When she tried to touch Vishakha’s feet, she stopped her, and instead kissed her forehead.

Sameer prepared tea while they happily chatted, but their laughter was cut short when suddenly Mamaji arrived. Naina limped over to touch his feet, and he didn’t stop her… He also didn’t ask as to how she was hurt. Sameer had already started to loath Mamaji, but at that moment the degree of his disgust increased by a manifold. There was his usual lecture about how gracious he had been and how disrespectful Sameer had been, the requests and justification of his mother and Naina fell on deaf ears. He heard it all in silence, until Mamaji commented on how he was squandering Nanu’s wealth. The argument that followed ended with the news that the lawyer would take care of the separation, and that Sameer only had a limited of wealth left as his own. He didn’t know what was true, but he felt that cheating would not be beyond Mamaji’s capabilities.

That night he paced in his room, worried about the impending separation, and the forecast of troubles it brought along with it. He tried to keep aside his worries, knowing that he still needed to apologize to Naina properly for what he had done. Just then Naina stepped out of the bathroom, and he went over to help her. She noticed his tensed expressions and asked, “Mamaji ki baato se pareshan ho?”

He made her sit on the bed, and sat beside her, “haan woh toh hun hi… kyunki aane wali musibat ka ehsaas ho raha hai. Lekin filhaal usse zyada zaruri ek baat hai.”

She tilted her head and asked, “kya?”

He looked at her for some time, then slipped to the floor, kneeling on his knees in-front of her. Bowing his head, and holding his ears, he apologized, “I am sorry Naina. Jaanta hun itna kaafi nahi hoga, lekin mujhe khud ko bhi nahi pata ke kaise mujhse itni badi galti ho gai… maine tumpe haath uthaya. Uss ladki pe haath uthaya jisse main sabse zyada pyaar karta hun, jisko surakshit aur khush rakhne ki kasam khai thi maine.”

She lowered his hands from his ears, and said, “Sameer uss waqt tum gusse me…”

He cut her off, “nahi… meri kartoot ko sahi saabit karneki koshish mat karo. Main galat hun. Chahe kitna bhi gusse me houn, ya kitna bhi pareshan houn, mujhe koi haq nahi banta ke main tumpe haath uthau. Woh sirf ek galti nahi… gunaah hai. Aur usse bhi bada gunaah shayad yeh hai ke tumse maafi maangne ke jagah maine tumhe iss ghar se jaane diya, apne ghar se jaane diya, apne aap se dur kiya. Aur uske baad bhi tumhe dosh deta raha ke tum mujhe samajh nahi saki aur mujhe chodke chali gai. Tum mujhe jo sazaa dogi woh kabul hai, tum jo kahogi main woh karunga… Batao mujhe Naina, main kya karu jisse iss gunaah ka bojh thoda halka ho jaaye.”

She listened to his confession and heartfelt apology in silence, and tears streamed from her eyes at the way he was blaming himself. Yes, he had been wrong… But the other side of the coin was that even she had been wrong. They both had made mistakes, they both had understood it, and now they both needed to work together to ensure such a time never came again. She tried to get down on the floor beside him, but the pain in her leg made her lose balance, and fall on him. He caught her immediately, and fell backwards to balance them both, ending up sitting down cross legged with her on his lap. He wanted to ask if she was alright, but before he could, she spoke up, “galti toh tumse hui hai… lekin wahi galti mujhse bhi hui hai… thappad maine bhi tumhe maara. Aur sirf iss baar nahi, isse pehle bhi, college me… Tumko toh ek minute bhi nahi laga tha mujhe maaf karne me, toh fir main kaise tumhe iss baar sazaa dun.”

When he again opened his mouth, she placed her palm to cover it, and continued, “lekin haan… agar sazaa deni hi hai toh iss baat ki de sakti hun ke tum apne dil ke dard mujhe kabhi nahi batate. Main jaanti hum tum mujhe khush rakhna chahte ho, lekin pyaar, shaadi yeh saare rishte tabhi safal hote hai jab hum sirf khushiyan nahi apna gum bhi baante. Tumhare saath bitaya hua har ek pal mere liye khaas hai, fir chahe uss pal me hum has rahe ho, ro rahe ho, lad rahe ho ya fir pyaar kar rahe ho. Agar tumko lagta hai ke apne dard chupake tum mujhe khush rakh sakte ho toh yeh soch galat hai… Tum khud hi socho agar uss din tumne gusse me hi sahi lekin mujhe sab bata diya hota toh hamare beech itni galat-fehmiya nahi hoti na. Sameer… hum duniya se, apne parivaar walo se, sabse lade hai hamare pyaar ko safal banane ke liye… toh fir shaadi ke baad kyun hum iss rishte ko sambhal nahi paa rahe?”

He gazed at her through tear filled eyes, wondering since when she had started to be so calm and understanding again… This was like having his sixteen years old Naina back, the girl who had calmed the raging storm called Sameer Maheshwari, and taught him what it was to be loved and to love. She cupped his face with one hand, and raised herself slightly to kiss his forehead, and demanded, “waada karo mujhse ke aaj ke baad apne dil ki har ek baat mujhe bataoge. Tumhari Naina kamzor nahi hai ke kuch musibat se tut jaaye… Zindagi ki aane wali musibato ka saamna hum saath me karenge, aur yehi hamare pyaar ki tarah hamare iss rishte ko bhi aur mazbut banayega. Bolo… mazoor hai yeh sazaa?”

He face split into a wide smile, and he hugged her, but this time she noticed how he was not holding her properly. She clucked her tongue, “Sameer… main kaanch ki gudiya nahi hun ke tut jaungi…”, and then turned her face to his neck, softly whispering against his skin, “thoda aur.” He closed his eyes and tightened his hold around her.

They sat there like that for quite some time, and then she said that she needed to change for the night, and he helped her up, supporting her to the dressing area. He pulled the curtains in place and went to sit on the bed again.

Inside Naina tried to change by herself but the pins were a hassle. She debated for a second if she should call mummyji, but then ditched the idea and with a slightly shaky voice called her husband. He immediately came up, and she shyly asked, “woh… saree ke pins nahi nikal rahe ek haath se… madad kar doge?”

His eyes rounded in surprise, but at the same time he felt gratified that she had asked him for help and not his mother. He stood in-front of her and gazed constantly at her face as he slowly removed the pin at her shoulder letting the pleats of her pallu fall open. As he tried to turn away thinking he had finished his task, she held his hand, still not meeting his eyes as she whispered, “niche bhi hai…”

His gaze fell to where her other hand was pointing and he exhaled shakily as he sat on his knees once more, but this time not to apologize, but rather act on the right given by his wife. His hand trembled slightly as he lifted her fallen pallu aside, his vision filling with her smooth creamy bare stomach… Trying to control his fascination with the shape of her navel, he finished removing the pin in quick jerky movements. He immediately stood up, his breathing erratic as he met her eyes, and then escaped from there lest he forgot his own promise.

She stood there mesmerized as she recalled how his eyes had glittered, how the veins in his neck and forearms had stood out, how his shoulders had seemed so broad and strong… With a smile of wonder she realized that this was the desire that she had read about in books. All her life she had only wished that someone would love her for what she was, without expectations, without her being the good obedient girl all the time, and now she had found that love in form of Sameer… He loved her just as was… and now she knew that for him she was beautiful. She wished that she had not been in so much pain from the accident, so that she could have explored some of what she felt with her husband tonight… Sighing at her fate, she turned back to the mirror and removed the saree completely, and then reached up behind to untie the dori of her blouse, realizing that it presented another hindrance as her shoulder groaned in pain.

Just outside, Sameer tried to calm his breathing, repeating his own promise to himself several times. He had promised her that he would wait… he didn’t want to scare her like last time. But waiting like this was hell when he wanted her so much… But how could he explain to her… He closed his eyes trying to rid himself of the sight he had been blessed with and suddenly realized that she won’t be able to get int her night suit by herself either… Her wrist was fractured, leg sprained, how in the hell would she wear the pant and top? God… He couldn’t help her… not with that. But wait… there was a way… the nightie… that should be easy for her to wear. But would she?

As he pulled out the hidden nightie from the cupboard, he wondered if he was going to be blessed with another slap tonight. He had bought it with so much bravado, but had never had the courage to give it to her. For God’s sake she didn’t even let him touch her properly… How could he give her a night gown that was essentially an object of his fantasy? But still, maybe she would listen to logic.

Lost in thought he parted the curtain, and began to call her, but stood frozen in shock on seeing the saree on the floor, and her standing in just the blouse and underskirt.

Oh no! Oh shit! Oh God!

Naina noticed him just then and shrieked, thankfully not loudly, and he immediately closed his eyes. He apologized hastily, “sorry Naina!”

She picked up the saree, bunching it and holding it to her front, “tum… tum yahan kya  kar rahe ho?” And then she spotted the pink nightie in his hand, eyes wide she immediately blurted, “yeh nightie firse nikali tumne? Aaj konsi sharab pee li?”

His mouth curved in a puzzled frown, “sharab? Firse? Tum kya bol rahi ho Naina?”

She tried not to panic at her state of undress, and calmed herself enough to ask, “tum yahan…?”

He bit his lip, eyes still closed, and tried to explain, “mujhe laga ke tum apna roz ka night suit akele nahi pehen paogi… pant aur top hai na… isiliye socha yeh nightie zyada asaan rahega pehenna aur yeh zyada aaramdayak bhi rahega.”

She blushed at his words, but his concern was genuine, and he was right… she won’t be able to wear her regular night suits without help. Hesitating a bit, she slowly took the nightie from his hands, and he smiled, turning to leave.

“Ruko”, she called out, “umm… mujhe dori kholne me bhi madad chahiye.”

His lips parted as he exhaled again, and nodded. She turned her back to him and waited, but after half a minute he said, “Naina… mujhe kuch dikh nahi raha hai. Tum kahan ho?”

She grinned at his adorable cuteness, and gently took his hand to guide him, but the shoulder still presented a problem and she could only direct his hand to the lower border of her blouse. Taking a deep breath she instructed, “yahan se sidha upar.”

His hand spanned her back as he felt his way up, he was careful, true to his word… the touch of his fingers was barely there… but it was there… and her breath hitched as sensations spread like rapid fire through her body making her shiver and breathe harder. He reached his destination, and then gently moved aside her hair, and she felt her senses scatter… for a moment all she could think of is how it would feel if he would dip his head and kiss her there… but he didn’t… instead he slowly untied the dori, letting it fall open, then traced down her back again… Lost in the wonder of touching his wife like this he lingered on her skin, figuring she would let him know if she was uncomfortable, but this time she didn’t pull away or stop him. It gave him hope and courage, as he slid her hand onto her waist and bent a bit, to whisper in her ears before leaving, “maine kuch dekha nahi… par fir bhi… tum bahot khubsurat ho.”

She smiled and blushed, leaning on the wall near the dresser mirror, trying to calm her breathing. It took her some time to regain her senses, and change into the pink night gown. Her cheeks flamed at the thought of Sameer seeing her like this, but then it was now or never… She had realized quite a few things today, and she needed to let him know that she was ready for the journey he wished to take her on. Giving herself a little pep talk, she finally stepped out from behind the curtains to find Sameer sitting on bed.

He looked up at her, his breath caught in his throat as he saw his fantasy come to life… but he tried to make himself remember that this was different. She wasn’t wearing the nightie because she wanted him, but rather because she was injured. Still he stood up and went to her, drinking in her sight, and murmured, “mujhe pata tha yeh shade tumpe bahot achcha lagega.”

He leaned down and picked her up, and she immediately blushed as she asked, “k…kya kar rahe ho?” He smirked at her nervous state, and assured, “filhaal kuch nahi.” He placed her on bed, and gave her the medicines, then sat facing her and asked, “doctor ne ghaav pe lagane ke liye kuch cream diya hai?”

Her brows furrowed, “cream? Ghaav pe toh patti lagi hai na… toh cream ka kya kaam.”

He shook his head, “yeh ghaav nahi… yeh wale”, and he touched her rib where he had spotted a bruise, “aur kahan laga hai?”

She narrowed her eyes and queried, “tumhari aankhen bandh thi… toh fir kaise?”

He frowned, “usse pehle toh bandh nahi thi na. Saree ka pin nikalte waqt hi dikh gaya tha mujhe. Aur kahan laga hai?”

She sighed, “kandhe pe, isiliye khud dori nahi khol paai. Aur… paav pe upar. Lekin koi cream nahi diya, sirf davai hi hai.”

His lips thinned as he nodded, and then asked the question that had bothered him, “tumne nightie dekhke firse kyun bola?”

This time she laughed and tugged on his hand, indicating him to come to next to him. When he was there she leaned on his chest and told him the tale of the drunken honeymoon night. He listened to it in wonder and shock, and closed his eyes in mortification, mumbling to himself, “wow… nightie diya bhi toh aise… ek kaam thik se nahi kar sakta.”

She laughed harder, but then quickly sobered down and looked up in his eyes, “toh? Yeh pink nightie toh maine pehen li… Aur konse color pasand hai tumhe? Red, blue, purple, ya green?”

He gasped, his eyes wide, “k…kya matlab?” He was not sure he had heard her right; surely he was dreaming or maybe hallucinating.

Her eyes turned a shade darker as she lifted her hand to trace one finger on his jaw, and softly informed, “uss din nightie sirf tumne nahi kharidi.”

His heart gave a loud thud as he realized what she was saying, and he gazed at her with wide-eyed fascination as she slid her hand in his hair, pulling him down until her lips met with his. Pleasure made him groan and shut his eyes, and his hands automatically found their way around her, his brain buzzed with need and the knowledge that finally his wife was giving him the acceptance that he had sought so many times. Happiness fizzed in his veins like bubbly champagne, yet he knew that he had to wait a bit more, until she was well enough, but till then he was not leaving her… She had given her consent, so she might as well get used to him. He peppered kisses on her face, showering special attention to the scratch on her soft cheek, apologizing for being the one to hurt her in the first place, and then captured her lips again while his hand traced the outline of her body learning her shape. That night he held her close to him, her head on his one arm, and his other arm around her, and for the first time since their wedding they both drifted into a peaceful slumber having found their home.